Pick and Chews

by Linda O. Johnston

  I laughed. “Are you ever!”

  Billi leaned forward toward me, clasping her hands on her desk. “Well, you’re not the only one who was concerned about that competing clinic part. Shea didn’t give me any details, of course, thanks to his attorney-client privilege, but he did tell me that Arvie had tried to talk to him about some legal issues regarding the opening of Raela’s clinic. Shea couldn’t help him since he’d already spoken with Raela.”

  Really? I shouldn’t have been surprised, of course, that Arvie had sought legal counsel. Arvie was one smart guy, even beyond all his wonderful skills as a veterinarian. Of course he’d have been concerned. He’d have questions, legal and otherwise.

  But the fact that he’d sought advice about Raela, no matter what questions he asked … Well, heck. I certainly wanted to be able to move my suspicions away from the man I had a relationship with, Reed—but I definitely didn’t want them to light on my boss and very dear friend Arvie.

  Even so, I’d considered him before and now would probably do so again, more seriously. Darn it. Of all my major suspects so far, I’d really hoped the killer was Oliver, since I didn’t know him that well. Or Jon. Our conversations so far had led me to believe that these two vets could be innocent, although that didn’t mean they definitely were.

  “Interesting,” I said. “There probably isn’t much Shea could have done, anyway. I will ask Arvie about it, but—”

  “Shea and I are having dinner together tonight to talk some more, and yes, you’re invited to join us. Reed, too. You can ask him anything you want, though I suspect he’ll pull the attorney card and change the subject when it comes to either Arvie or Raela. But you can try. Are you in?”

  “I am,” I said happily. “Reed has other plans, though.” Which actually might be a good thing. Reed didn’t need to be involved in this conversation, at least not yet. “At the resort?”

  “No, we talked about trying someplace else. I’ll let you know.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. That settled, Billi and I changed the subject to rescue animals: those at the shelter currently, and, once more, when we could hold our next adoption event.

  As I prepared to leave with Biscuit, Billi received a call on her desk phone. “She is? I’ll be right down.” She hung up and looked at me. “Our illustrious mayor is here, apparently interested in possibly adopting a dog. Care to say hello?”

  “Sure.”

  I liked to meet everyone interested in adopting a dog. Their new family members would undoubtedly enjoy treats. But Mayor Sybill Gabbon? I didn’t know her well at all and rarely thought about her. I’d seen her in the distance occasionally at functions, but the only words we’d ever exchanged were mostly along the lines of “hello.” Billi, of course, knew the mayor and had worked with her, or at least had dealt with her in relation to city business.

  This should be interesting.

  And it was, for possibly a minute. The tall, well-dressed, middle-aged mayor was leaning on the reception desk chatting with Mimi. Billi stepped up to her immediately, while I restrained Biscuit on her leash. My pup enjoyed greeting most people she met, but that wouldn’t be a good idea at the moment.

  After Billi greeted Madam Mayor, she introduced me, mentioning the fact that I was a vet tech and owned the Barkery and Icing. I doubted at first that the mayor would be interested, but she greeted me as a valued constituent. And then she turned back to Billi.

  “I haven’t had a dog for a long time,” she said, “but for economic and other reasons, my son Corwin is moving back home in a few weeks. He … well, you don’t need to know the details, but he needs more companionship than I can provide. I’d like to meet the dogs you have now, and I’ll probably bring him in to choose one when he gets here.”

  Interesting. I thought I’d heard that Corwin was married and lived in the Bay Area. I wasn’t sure what he did for a living.

  Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have another resident return who apparently cared about dogs.

  For now, as Billi started to take the Mayor Gabbon back to the shelter area, I just said, “See you later!” Then Biscuit and I left.

  I was due back at my bakeries but decided I needed to make a short detour: a brief return to the vet clinic to see if I could ask Arvie a question or two about the legal issues related to Raela’s clinic that had worried him—and whether they still did. Assuming he’d tell me about them. And had he hired a different attorney?

  Fortunately, Kayle was the vet tech at the reception desk. If it had been grumpy Yolanda, I wasn’t sure I’d have gotten her cooperation, but Kayle was a nice guy. There were only a couple of humans waiting, one with a cat in a carrier and the other with a Shih Tzu sitting on her lap.

  “Any chance I can see Arvie for just a minute?” I asked Kayle very quietly.

  “He should be through with his current patient in a few minutes. I can work you in then.”

  “Thanks.”

  I sat down on one of the empty chairs, Biscuit lying at my feet. I actually waited about ten minutes, but I finally got in to see Arvie. Kayle sent me to one of the examination rooms, and Arvie was in there waiting.

  My sweet boss was clearly surprised to see me. After all, I’d been on duty only a short while earlier. “Carrie? Everything okay with Biscuit?”

  “Yes, I’m glad to say.” I quickly told him why I was there: curiosity about the legal questions he’d wanted to ask Shea. “I know it’s not my business, but—”

  Arvie laughed. “Oh, I know you’re trying to figure out who murdered Raela. And yes, I did have some legal questions about how she was starting her clinic—did she have all the right permits and what was her own background and all. Not that Shea could give me any information. I still don’t have the answers. And there was nothing especially threatening about her clinic, if you’re wondering if I killed her. Which I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you’re trying every angle you can think of to help Reed, and that’s fine. But I think Shea is a pretty competent lawyer, so he probably won’t answer any of your questions about Raela, either. I would have tried another lawyer but I never got around to it.”

  “Oh, well.” I didn’t mention to Arvie that I’d likely be having dinner with Shea that very night.

  I also had questions that Arvie might not have tried to ask the lawyer, questions about Raela’s muscling in on the veterinary community here before she’d died. But I wasn’t sure what was happening with her clinic—whether Oliver or someone else was in charge or if it had simply been shut down.

  I wasn’t sure whether Shea would know much about that either, even if he’d had Raela as a client. But I just might find out that night.

  Oh, this was another question to ask Arvie. Surely he, among a select few in this town, would know the answer.

  “Do you know what’s going on with that clinic Raela supposedly opened? I know it’s a crime scene, so it’s closed at least for some time, but will it reopen? Is there a vet running it, like Oliver or someone else?”

  “A living vet, you mean?” Arvie snorted. “I’ve talked to Oliver, and—well, he and I are discussing the possibility of his working here along with Jon and the rest of us. He seems a bit confused, and I suspect he would rather not run a veterinary hospital of his own. But if he and I don’t reach an agreement? Well, I don’t know. Maybe he’ll go back to San Diego—or not. And if we do reach an agreement, I don’t know what’ll happen to the lease and equipment and everything that’s there.”

  “I guess that will depend on Raela’s heirs,” I said, wondering not for the first time if she had any family who would miss her. I hadn’t heard, and neither had I asked Reed.

  “I guess so,” Arvie agreed. He shook his head. “Bad situation all around—but these dratted murders around here always are.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “they are.”

  Twenty-One

  Now, finally, it was time to return to my shops. I still had an hour before closing time, and when I
got there I was pleased to see that both bakeries had customers in them as well as staff who were doing an excellent job taking care of them. There were even a couple of dog customers in the Barkery, including a Doberman mix and a German shepherd.

  Biscuit seemed happy to see them. They’d met before, since the dogs’ owners were frequent customers at both shops.

  Dinah finished waiting on the Dobie’s owner, and after a few more nose sniffs between the dogs I put Biscuit into her enclosed area in the corner. Then I approached Dinah behind the counter, ready to ask a few questions. She beat me to it—probably because she knew I was a concerned shop owner who, never mind if things looked well, wanted to confirm it.

  “Yes, everything was fine while you were gone. No, we had no disasters. Yes, some of our regular customers were here as well as some I didn’t know. Now tell me—did you save any animals’ lives at the hospital today?”

  I grinned at her. “Thanks for the update. And no, fortunately today things were fairly standard and no lives were at risk.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” said my supportive assistant. “Did you solve that murder yet?”

  This time I laughed, perhaps a bit sardonically. “Still working on it.”

  “You doing any investigation tonight?”

  I felt fairly sure Dinah wanted to know if I was seeing Reed. “Of course,” I said. “Though too bad my buddy Dr. Storme won’t be with me.”

  Dinah’s eyes grew larger, but before she could ask any further questions, another customer reached the counter, pointed into the display case, and began asking about the treats’ ingredients. I stifled my laughter but continued to feel some levity at the frustration I knew Dinah must be feeling at not learning more.

  But then I considered the fact that yes, tonight I hoped to learn something relating to the murder. But was I likely to solve it with the information I received? And was I really making much progress?

  I sighed, ducked behind the counter, and came out with a plate full of sample treats. I needed a distraction, and giving bonuses to my customers could only help.

  Next, I headed over to Icing to ensure that all was going well there, too—which it was.

  Eventually our crowds began thinning and soon it was time to close both shops.

  Dinah managed to take me aside after Frida and Janelle had left. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on tonight, and why Reed won’t be involved?”

  I laughed. “What, so you can take notes for your latest story?” She opened her mouth again, as if getting ready to say yes, but I interrupted. “I’m just meeting with a couple of people who might have information about what’s going on with Raela’s clinic. If I learn anything helpful, I’ll let you know.” Maybe. Although I might edit it first.

  “Who would that be? The cops? The vet Reed knew, who Raela hired? Or—”

  I lifted my hand and shook my head. “Good guesses, but for now I’ll keep you guessing and not say yes or no. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so I assume you’re working, right?” Though Dinah was my only full-time employee, the two days she usually took off each week were Sunday and Monday.

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. I can’t promise we’ll talk then, but maybe.”

  She looked disgruntled. “You can be sure I’ll push you for answers then,” she said.

  “Yes, I feel sure of that,” I responded.

  Dinah left shortly thereafter and I finished closing the stores, which included confirming that all financial information was locked securely in my small office at the rear of the kitchen. Then I got Biscuit ready for our drive home.

  I figured I could call Billi on my Bluetooth to find out where we were going to meet for dinner, and when. Not having heard from her yet, I had some concerns that the plans had changed.

  They had in some ways, as it turned out, but not in all. Billi wound up calling me nearly the moment after I got into my car. We were still getting together with Shea to eat, but we weren’t dining in a restaurant at all. Instead, Shea was cooking at his place.

  Interesting. The guy was a lawyer and a dog lover—and he cooked, too. I’d already figured it might be a good thing that Billi wasn’t counting on Jack Loroco as her main love interest anymore. Shea might be a good replacement.

  Billi told me where Shea’s home was—a duplex in a gated condo community that was closer to downtown than my place or even Reed’s. I was familiar with it and assumed Shea must be renting there, since I doubted a lawyer would want to remain for long in one of those small dwellings, but that wasn’t my concern.

  This was, though. “Would it be okay if I brought Biscuit?”

  “Sure. I’m bringing Fanny and Flip. They get along fine with his dogs, Buffer and Earl.”

  I’d met Shea’s dogs and so had Biscuit, of course, since he’d brought Buffer and Earl to the Barkery as well as the clinic. No issues there about getting along, either.

  “Tell you what. I’ll pick you up on my way. Biscuit, too. I should be there in about fifteen minutes. Okay?”

  That didn’t give me a lot of time to walk my pup and change clothes, but I could do it. “Fine,” I said, and we hung up.

  Once home, I walked Biscuit along our residential street for a couple of minutes, then hurried inside to change. No need to be formal tonight, so I chose some nice jeans and a plaid shirt. I was ready when Billi called again to say she was just pulling up outside.

  I helped Biscuit into the back of the car, where Billi’s dogs already occupied a large portion of the seats, but my small pup had no trouble finding a spot on the floor. The dogs knew each other and they all got along fine.

  On the way there I couldn’t help asking, “So you’ve been to Shea’s before?”

  I watched the expression on Billi’s face as she drove. It appeared almost defiant, which I found interesting. We were friends. She didn’t need to get embarrassed, but neither did she need to argue with me about what she did.

  “Yes,” she finally said. “And in case you’re wondering—which I know you are—we didn’t do anything steamy. He just wanted to show me something in an antique law book he had about the rights of women in government.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she said. “It was from back in the day when women had only recently gotten the right to vote. It was fascinating.”

  And Shea couldn’t have just brought it to Mountaintop Rescue to show her? Heck, it wasn’t really any of my business. There could have been timing issues, like he’d wanted to show her immediately after mentioning it.

  Or maybe he’d hoped for a steamy visit but it hadn’t gone in that direction, at least not at that time.

  In any event, along with the questions I hoped he’d answer tonight, I would watch Shea and Billi for signs that they cared for one another. Or didn’t.

  We soon arrived on one of the nice but not extremely elite residential streets where there were a couple of gated communities. Billi drove up to the entry of the first one and stopped, pulling her phone from her jeans pocket. She made a quick call to Shea, and nearly immediately the large metal gate opened inward. She drove inside, where a row of identical two-story buildings burgeoned on both sides. She turned right and soon parked in one of the spots in front of the left side of one of the boxy, multi-windowed duplexes.

  Shea was waiting outside for us. He smiled his greeting, said hello as we got out of the car, and took charge of black Lab Flip’s leash. Billi took beagle-mix Fanny’s leash and I grabbed Biscuit’s.

  “Need a walk?” he asked.

  Just to be safe I said yes, despite the woofs I heard from inside the home. We all ambled with our dogs past Shea’s half-house and along the sidewalk in front of some others, then back again.

  After a few minutes Shea led us inside, and of course we were greeted enthusiastically by his yellow Lab mix, Buffer, and his pit bull mix, Earl.

  His home appeared to be a standard condo, with wood-laminate floors, a moderate-sized living room, and a kitchen with pale wood ca
binets and deep yellow countertops, which was where we headed, The round wooden table was already set for dinner.

  The place smelled good—a bit more like my Barkery than Icing, so I figured we were having some kind of meat dish for dinner. This turned out to be true, since after Shea got us seated and poured some claret into small glasses for us, he brought a plate of meat loaf to the table and placed it on a trivet. He’d also prepared a nice, large salad and a small side dish of creamed spinach.

  The guy had promise, I thought. For Billi, not for me. I was happy enough with Reed’s bringing in chicken dinners or Chinese food or even pizza when we ate at his house, and he never seemed to mind my doing the same if I wasn’t in a cooking mood when I got home.

  All the dogs were well behaved enough to settle down on the floor near us as we began eating. The meat loaf was tasty and I decided to save a little to treat Biscuit, but not while we were still dining.

  And since we humans, too, were settled down I figured it was a good time to start the conversation I wanted to have.

  I looked at Shea. He was dressed as casually as when I’d seen him at Mountaintop Rescue, in a dark T-shirt and jeans. His brown hair appeared even more askew than I’d noticed previously, and his expression was serious, as if he’d been anticipating my questions and considering his response in advance.

  I considered throwing him something completely off topic to confuse him. Maybe then he’d be more off guard and answer some questions in an un-lawyerlike way. Then again, I needed to talk to him because he was a lawyer, and because he’d apparently advised Raela and spoken a bit with Arvie.

  Plus, since he’d known Raela, that automatically kept him a murder suspect, at least in my mind. But since she’d been somewhat of a client and not his rival, I still doubted he was the one.

  Time to begin. “This meal is delicious, Shea. I assume it’s to distract me so I won’t ask you anything difficult.”

  “Hey, I’m a lawyer,” he retorted with a smile that lit up his already nice-looking face. “I’m used to answering difficult questions. So, fire away—although I’ll tell you right up front, as I have to, that there’ll be certain things I won’t be able to answer if they violate